Search

Ok, there’s NOTHING on tv. I mean nothing. We were actually watching MTV yesterday. We were watching “Made”, and it was about this girl who wanted to be a bad ass skater punk. This poor girl was delusional, going on about how all the cool kids are skaters. Sigh. Sweetie, they’re really not cool at all. Anyway, I felt really bad for this kid. She was like 15, daughter of a “politician” (apparently County Commissioner counts as a politician these days), and her mom had some job outside the home, but really her main job was to quell any urge for this girl to be a normal human being. So the girl is trying to learn to skateboard and kept falling. She cried and was all, I can’t do this! So her mom brings her to the skate park and the girl’s coach is like, Quit being a baby and skate damnit! Her mom like launched herself at the coach and was like screaming at her about how dare she speak to her child like that, blah, blah, blah. I didn’t even finish watching it the woman was so ridiculous I couldn’t stand it. Anyway, the whole thing made me realize 2 things.

1. If I ever act that ridiculous and over-protective about my kids, I give Chris permission to slap me upside the head. Although, I don’t think it’s likely. After all, I am the same mom who laughed at her kid when he fell in the driveway and told her daughter to “toughen up” when she complained about being sick…turns out she had a double ear infection and strep throat…but we won’t discuss that.

2. I’m getting really old. MTV is stupid. The commercials are stupid. I SO don’t get The Hills, or Speidi or whatever the hell that is. And all the flashing lights and break dancing makes me go into convulsions. I used to love MTV, but now it all just makes me feel old.

So what have we learned? 30 is way older than it seemed when I turned 29 and I really am a spectacular mother.

Busy, busy, busy. We had Christmas Eve here, and it was…hectic. I was working on Tuesday and Chris calls me to tell me the light on the boiler is blinking. I was like eh…ok, and? So he pushes the little button and the furnace starts…and stops. I was like DID WE JUST RUN OUT OF OIL?! Yep. Bone freaking dry. I called the oil company and they’re like, we’ll deliver first thing tomorrow morning. Ok, that’s not completely the end of the world, it’ll just be a tad chilly. We took the kids to my mom’s for a couple of hours and did the last-minute Christmas shopping in the seventh circle of hell, otherwise known as Wal-Mart. 4 hours later (yeah, seriously 4 hours for a total of $30 worth of stuff), we get home, and although it’s pretty cold it’s not that bad. Next morning, I wake up early and go to the bank to get the money to pay the oil delivery guy, who I’m sure will be there literally ANY second. I waited in line for about 45 minutes, sure that I was going to miss him, but I got home and he hadn’t come yet. So I gave Dave (ex-husband/errand boy for the day) my list of needed grocery items to prepare for that evening’s party. The day goes on and on, and no oil delivery. No oil means not only no heat, but no hot water, means no dishes can be done. Finally at about 1:30, oil gets delivered. I run downstairs and push the flashy button…no joy. I push and push, yell some profanities and stomp back upstairs to call my dad for help. Dave finally strolls in at about 2:00 with my groceries (he left the house at 10:00), but completely botched it. My dad was in an appointment and didn’t pick up his phone and my brother was out. So I waited some more. Meanwhile, I’ve dirtied every dish in the house and I have people coming in 4 hours. I smell like a trucker and my house looks like an F5 blew through.

My dad finally answers his cell phone and gives me a bunch of sighs about how busy he is, I’m like, Dad…me too, please help anyway. He and brother come, bang around for about an hour and are like, yeah, we can’t start it. It’s now about 3:15 and I’m seriously on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I was like ok, I’ll boil water to do dishes, I can handle this. We call the oil company back (who has of course closed by now), and they send their emergency guy out. On a side note, I’m switching careers, this guy who didn’t bother showing up until after 4:00 made $120 for his little 35 minute visit. I’m obviously in the wrong profession. Anyway, he trudges around, gets mud all over the kitchen floor, but FINALLY gets the furnace started…at 5:05. I now have company coming in 55 minutes and I still smell like a trucker. So Chris and I go into total panic mode, rushing around like crazy people trying desperately not to kill each other when Chris looks up and goes, “someone’s here”. I think I may have screamed a little, but it was just Michaela coming to help. So people came at 6:00…on the dot. Now mind you, these people have never been on time a day in their lives, and pick today to be on time. Sigh. I didn’t get a shower, but I did get deodorant on, so at least I didn’t smell. All in all it was a good night. It didn’t go at all how I’d planned, but it was ok. Everyone raved about the food, but with all the drama all day, so many little details were missing, and it was definitely not how I wanted it. But what are you gonna do?

Christmas Day was nice, very low-key and quiet. Just hung out at my mom’s and ate myself silly. Friday I ate myself into a sugar-induced coma. Saturday I slept until 2:00 and ate some more. Today I skipped church, and ate some more. Kat had cheering this afternoon. She got her uniform that “fits like a second skin”, which really means don’t breathe or you’ll bust the seams. But that’s what God invented tailors for. Tonight the Cowboys rolled over and died for the Philadelphia Evils. The NFL should be insulted that people actually called that football. I could’ve played better than them. Horrible would be a compliment. 44-6. There are no words for it. It was freaking terrible.

Anyway that was my last few days. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Yesterday we had a huge (like 12 inches of snow) snowstorm so we were pretty much shut-ins after church yesterday. I was frantically cooking in preparation of our big Christmas Eve shindig. And who walks in? Gasp! It’s the Evil Cashman! (or so he likes to call his alter ego) And of course no superhero would be complete without safety glasses and a gold medal, right? I think the dagger is a nice touch…

It’s been a pretty busy two days for us. Yesterday we had a lot of snow, so of course that meant shoveling and lots of it. The kids had an early release day, so they “helped” me shovel. And by help, I mean they pushed the snow in all directions…except for pushing it off the driveway. After about and hour, Kat called to me to see how good she was doing, and she’s on her hands and knees in the driveway brushing the snow from side to side. Look! This way you can see the driveway and you don’t have to lift any snow! Sigh. Typical Kat though. She almost got kicked off the bus a couple of months ago. The bus driver wrote her up for causing “excessive mischief”. Being the stellar parent that I am, I burst out laughing. Excessive mischief? As if. What does that even mean? I figure if you can’t give me an actual problem, or an example of bad behavior, it can’t be that bad. Take a pill and get over it. Suffice it to say, she didn’t get in trouble.

Today was David’s big orthodontist day. He had his expander put in. Poor kid. They glue this metal contraption to his teeth with a big bar that runs across the roof of his mouth. He was drooling and talking like his mouth was full all day. It’s gotten better since this evening, and I anticipate it will continue to get better, but man, it was bad, and I felt so bad for him. I showed my stellar mothering skills again today when I packed him a bologna and cheese sandwich, carrots and animal crackers for lunch. Keep in mind, the metal thing covers 3 teeth on each side, so he can’t chew. Yeah…oops. The lunch ladies took pity on him and gave him some mashed potato to eat. The teacher told him to tell me that perhaps soup in a thermos would’ve been a better choice. I’m like, thanks, good tip. He came off the bus crying because he was so hungry. I bought him a chocoloate shake out of sheer guilt.

So pretty much, I’m thinking, I’ve totally sewed up my Mother of the Year award.

Last night we watched Gentlemen Prefer Blondes with Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell, which I j’adored! I’d never seen it, and I really, really loved it. It was genuinely funny, and it’s so much fun to watch old movies where everyone looks fabulous and sings and dances…love it. I also really loved that Lorelei (Marilyn Monroe’s character) was unabashedly a gold-digger. I’ve shared her whole philosophy of the world as long as I can remember, not necessarily the gold-digging, but certainly the philosophy that she’s worth it, and why shouldn’t she want the best for herself. But I loved the scene about the tiara. Lorelei is trying on a tiara, and she can’t figure out how to put in on and when they tell her to put it on her head she says, “You DO wear it on your head. I just LOVE finding new places to wear diamonds!” I laughed so hard at that. I mean seriously, is that not totally true?

Anyway, I was noticing the enormous differences between Jane Russell and Marilyn Monroe and the movie stars of today. The movie stars of the those days are beautiful and statue-esque, but certainly unconventional beauties by today’s standards. Marilyn Monroe would most likely be plastered all over US Weekly with the headlines “Marilyn, Too Fat?” It’s completely absurd. You could use any of the movie stars of those days, but it was watching Marilyn Monroe that really got me thinking about this. She was (and is) an iconic beauty. Women wanted to be her, men wanted to be with her. Yes, she was typecast, and unfortunately people saw only her looks and not really her as a person, but that only makes my point more. Today’s standards are so ludicrous, unless a woman is stick thin, botoxed, nipped, tucked, and implanted, she’s fat, or not pretty enough. Please. It’s retarded.See, the problem here is women, not men. I actually heard my mom and my aunt talking a couple of weeks ago, and they were saying that men want thinner women, and DO care about weight, etc. To which I said, bullshit. They still disagreed with me but they’re wrong. Women seem to have this ideal picture in their head of what beauty is, men don’t share it. Yes, men will always love to look at the Jenna Jameson’s of the world, but that’s not who they love, it’s not who they choose to be with. I think that it’s unfair to peg men as these cavemen-like creatures that only care about big boobs and blonde hair. Sure, some men do, but do you honestly want that kind of man anyway? I’m talking about the majority of men. They care about a woman’s personality, their confidence, their wit, etc. Any man will tell you that confidence is sexy. If you act and carry yourself like you weigh 300 lbs, then that’s exactly how you’ll look. But if you own the room, if you own your body, and are comfortable in your own skin, all of a sudden 300 looks like 120. I’m not advocating letting yourself go and burning all your makeup, I’m just saying, be who you are. Be strong, be proud, be beautiful, be you.Look, I’m no supermodel, I never have been. I’ve always struggled with my weight. But I’ve never, ever had a problem getting men to pay attention to me. That’s not cocky, it’s a fact. I don’t walk around like a fatty fat. Own it ladies, love yourself, love your body, and for God’s sake, push the mute button on what you’re “supposed” to be.

The driveway still has a sheer coating of ice, and the kids were of course playing around on it. First Kat fell, squarely on her butt. I of course delivered my momly, be careful, and no sooner do the words come out of my mouth, David is on the ground. I laughed (all good moms laugh when their children fall, didn’t you know that?) and David got up kind quickly and walked around like nothing had happened.

Me: Are you ok?

David: Fine.

Me: Is your pride hurt?

David: Nope, just my arm.

I about peed my pants I laughed so hard. He’s too funny. And he’s truly one of those kids whose humor is so subtle, I don’t even know that he means to be that funny. So anyway, the bus pulls up, and these two kids, who normally wouldn’t be caught dead touching each other, let alone hold hands, look furtively at each other and grab hands. Watching the two them take baby steps toward the bus, like a little old couple while clutching each other for dear life was a riot.